


The Hunter, the Hunted

by Hadrianus



Series: F&B: Prequel [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Parent John Winchester, Bad Parenting, Bounty Hunters, Gen, Happy Ending, Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Sam Winchester, Light Angst, Little Shit Dean Winchester, Meddling Kids, Poor Dean Winchester, Skinwalker Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26773813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadrianus/pseuds/Hadrianus
Summary: How Sam and Dean Winchester went on the path to become the world's greatest bounty hunters.
Series: F&B: Prequel [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011840
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	The Hunter, the Hunted

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my English class. The prompt was to write about the first time you recieved a lifeline/ or something that changed your life.
> 
> And while I was brainstorming, I thought, 'Hey! Why not write about how the boys got into bounty hunting?'
> 
> Well, voilà!

For years, since Mom died, it was John, Sammy, and I. John fell into hunting, and the bottle. There was no one to take care of Sam and I, so I had to do it myself. Uncle Bobby tried to help, but he didn’t know about Sam’s secret. Pamela also tried to help, but John didn’t like her all that much, and refuse to leave Sam with her because of her psychic-ness. It was hard, especially with John taking off for weeks at a tie for hunts several towns, sometimes even a state away. He barely left enough money to feed Sam. But all that would change on November 25th, 1992. But the real story starts on November 21st.

It was a Saturday, and though the sun was shining, it was very chilly. Sam and I were in the motel room, watching _Renegade_ reruns.

“Dean, I’m hungry.” Sam said. John had only left us 100 dollars and I used the last of it two weeks ago to go food shopping. I got up and looked in the mini fridge. There was nothing in there but ice. Had Sam been a baby, I would have given him that to suck on. But Sam was nine, so that wouldn’t work for him. 

So, I looked in the drawers of the dresser underneath the tv. There was nothing in there, but an unopened pack of granola bars Sam had made me buy. Looking back now, it’s sad how happy I was to see that pack of granola bars. 

I grabbed that pack of granola bars and tossed onto the bed next to Sam. “I can have all of it?” he asked eagerly. My stomach clenched angrily, but I smiled at him. “Yeah kid, have at it.” I said. 

See, Sam ate more than the average nine-year-old. He needed to eat more than the average nine-year-old. He could eat almost double of what I can, given the chance. It was hard trying to keep him fed. More often than not, I skipped out on eating. 

“What you gonna eat Dean?” 

“Don’t worry about me Sammy, I’ll find something later,” I told him. His bright sunflower eyes shined worriedly at me. He opened his mouth to say something, but the tv interrupted him.

_“We interrupt your program to bring you this breaking news: One of The Baby killer’s hideouts was discovered today by the ILPD. Unfortunately, the killer was not there, which means they’re roaming around the area. The police are offering a bounty of 100,000 dollars if anyone can apprehend them.”_

Sam and I looked at each other. “100,000 dollars is a lot of money,” Sam said, eyes wide. “Sure is. ‘Magine what we could do with that kind of money.” I replied. 

“You think we could do it Dean? Find that baby killer?” Sam asked me. My eyes widened with what he was implying. “You think you’re up for that?” I asked him. He smiled, all teeth and determination. “I can do it Dean; you can count on me. I can find him.” 

A car horn honked outside loudly. “Pammy!” Sam cried happily. Before I could say anything, he’d jumped off the bed and ran outside. "Sam!” I yelled. He didn’t come back inside, so I got up and walked to the door. 

Pamela Barnes stood next to her ‘92 Plymouth Laser, hugging Sam. I relaxed a little and walked over to them. “Hey Bean, heard you two need to find someone,” she said. I rolled my eyes at the nickname but smiled at her. “Hey Pam, you heard correctly. Sam and I have a baby killer to catch. You up for scrying?” I asked her. 

“Hell yeah. I haven’t scryed in weeks. Well, except to see where you two are.” Pamela said. 

  
  


When the sun went down, Pamela drove us all to the hideout the police found. There were a couple of patrolmen around, so Pam and Sam went in while I kept watch .They stayed in there for about ten minutes, and then they snuck back out. Once we were a safe distance away from the hideout, Pamela told me what she found out from the scrying she did while Sam was memorizing the killer’s scent.

“So, this baby killer of yours is hiding in a forest three thousand miles away. I can drive you two there,” Pamela said. I looked at Sam. “You still wanna do this?” I asked him. “Hell yeah!” Sam said.

“Language. Pamela, can you swing back by the motel so I can pack a duffel?” 

“Can do, Dean Bean.” she said.

…

Our two-day road trip wasn’t very long, compared to the ones we had to take with John, but they were way more fun. We slept in nicer motels and got to eat more than we had in weeks.

The forest Pamela drove us to seemed random, but I trusted her judgment. Sam was very excited and leaped out of the car. “Sam!” I called after him. He smiled at me over his shoulder and disappeared into the trees.

“He’ll be back in a minute Bean, don’t lose your head.” Pamela said. I frowned at her. “That boy will be the death of me Pam, I know it,” I said.

“Nah. I think you’ll find something worth dying for in about sixteen years,” she said. I gave her a confused look. But before I could ask her what that meant, Sam ran out of the woods in his dog form, wagging his tail.

He spun around in a circle, looking at me expectantly. His tail was a blur of brown fur. I couldn’t stay upset with him; he looked so excited. I got out of the car, and Sam jumped on me, squirming happily. “Sam, calm down man,” I told him. 

Reluctantly, Sam backed off and sat on the ground, looking up at me impatiently. I grabbed the duffel bag from the backseat. “I’ll wait for you guys here. It won’t take Sam too long to find him.” Pamela said. I nodded, knowing how much Sam loved to hunt. “Alright, I should go before Sam chews my leg off.” I told her. She smiled. “Go catch that baby killer.”

I turned to Sam and said, “Alright Sammy, go get him.” 

Sam took off at a brisk pace, nose in the air. I walked a few yards behind him, to give him space to hunt. About ten minutes in, he started to run. I jogged behind him, pulling a gun out of the duffel and a pair of cuffs. 

Suddenly, he made a sharp turn and disappeared into the bushes. I cocked the gun and stood still for a second, listening. I heard a man cry out and I ran towards the noise. 

As I got closer, I heard Sam's low growl, and I grinned. “Attaboy,” I whispered. I stepped through some bushes and saw Sam, with his jaws around a thin man’s throat. He looked at me, panicked. I grinned and raised my gun, pointing it at him. Terror filled his eyes. “Sam, here.” I said. Sam gently opened his mouth and trotted over to me. 

“Please let me go! I didn’t do anything!” the man begged. I tilted my head, feigning confusion. “Oh! So that wasn’t your scent at The Baby Killer’s hideout that the police found? Sam,”

Sam growled, stalking towards the man. His eyes widened in fear, and he gave me a pleading look. I looked at him passively. Sam lunged, biting the man’s arm and shaking his head. The poor man screamed. 

See, Sam had sharp teeth, since in human to dog years, he was still a puppy. But he had the bite force of a wolf, which made his bite far worse than his bark. 

“No more! I did it! Please call him off!”

“Sam.”

Reluctantly, Sam released the man’s arm. I quickly put cuffs on him, and half dragged him out of the woods. He reluctantly complied, scared of Sam who trotted next to us happily. He was proud of himself; I could tell. And he was rightfully so. This was his first-time hunting something bigger than a fox. John wanted to have him hunt with us, but I refused every time. Sam deserved to be a kid. And this money would definitely allow him to do that.

The man balked at the sight of the car. “Where are you taking me?” he asked. “To the police.” I replied. He dug his feet in and squirmed, trying to get away. Sam barked, nipping at the man’s heels and he froze. I let go of the man and drew my gun on him. “Now you get in this car and cooperate with us or I’ll shoot you in the foot.” I growled. 

Apparently, the man forgot about Sam and gained some backbone. He stood up and glared down at me. “Shoot me? You’re just a whelp of boy, do you even know how to shoot?” he sneered. 

I grinned; an all-teeth smile early identical to the Sam made days prior. “I have you know I’m thirteen, _sir_. And I’ve seen things that would make men cry. John has taught me how to shoot, dismantle, and clean a gun. I could shoot you dead before you could take a step.” I told him. And to prove my point, I shot him in the foot. He screamed, falling to the ground in agony. Blood spurted out the hole in his shoe, and Sam sneezed. “Get in.” I ordered.

The man scrambled in with a whimper, and Sam jumped in behind him.

…

Pamela Barnes is an absolute saint. For two days straight, she drove (excepted when we had bathroom breaks). And while she drove, I bandaged the man’s wounds, and kept him in a semi-conscious state with my magic until we reached the ILPD headquarters.

I walked right up to the desk, ignoring the stares, half-dragging the man along with me. Sam walked by my side, head and tail held high. 

“Young man...?”

“This man is the Baby Killer.” I proclaimed to the receptionist. Her eyes widened in shock. 

Two officers came and took the man. A woman came and ushered Sam and I into an interrogation room. “Sit down please,” she said. I sat down in the metal chair, and Sam sat on the floor next to me. “Young man, where and how did you find the man you brought in?” 

I told her that I saw the ad on tv, and simply wanted to help. That I’d called up Pamela, an emancipated teen who was also my guardian, and asked her to drive me up to the hideout so Sam to catch the killer’s scent. And then I turned Sam lose. I said Sam had a chip in him, and Pam and I followed him by tracking it. And when he’d went into the woods, something he hadn’t done before, we drove over there, and I tracked Sam through the woods.

When she asked about the man’s wounds, I told her that the man tried to hit Sam, so he got bit, and he also tried to run, so I shot him. 

After I answered her questions, she left the room for a few minutes. While I waited, I let Sam crawl into my lap and doze off. When she came back in, he ignored her completely, feigning sleep. 

“Well kiddo, you dog is a miracle worker. You two found our guy, which means you get the reward money.” she said. My eyes widened in pretend surprise. “Really? That’s awesome!” I said. She smiled a motherly smile at me, and lead Sam and I into another room, where there quite a few people waiting. I noticed several of them had cameras. 

“Dean!”

I turned and saw Pamela walking towards us. “Hi Pam!” I said. She knelt in front of us and kissed both Sam and I’s foreheads. When she stood up, a man handed her a large cardboard check. A lot of cameras went off at once, blinding me. I smiled as widely I could; considering I couldn't see a damned thing.

Soon enough, the paparazzi seemed to have their fill, and they stopped taking pictures. A large hand clapped down on my shoulder, and I whirled around quickly. A large man, not quite as tall as John, but taller than me anyhow said, “Whoa there son, I ain’ mean to scare you. I just wanted to say congratulations. You ever heard of bounty hunting?” 

“You mean like _Renegade_?” I asked.

“There an’ about. Look son, you got yourself a fine pup and an iron gut. I reckon if you really put your mind to it, y’all two’ll be the best bounty hunters on this side of the Mississippi,” He handed me a card. “When you two are old enough, come to this place and tell them Ol’ Skinner sent y’all if you ain’t got nothing better going on, y’hear?”

“Yes sir.” 

“Get on outta here young fella.”

Sam, Pamela, and I left the building soon after and we got in her car. “I'll forward the money to your bank accounts,” she said. I nodded absently, looking at the card. Sam shifted back and read it upside down.

“Do you think we can do it?” he asked quietly. “Do you want to?” I asked him. His sunflower eyes seemed to glow with his excitement. “Yeah!” he crowed. “You hear that Pammy? Dean and I are gonna be the best bounty hunters in the world!”

She smiled. "Of course you are. And don't worry about the pictures; they'll never leave that room completely intact. How about we go out to eat to celebrate?" 


End file.
